A.N: I know i say this every time, but thank you for being so patient! This chapter has been the toughest to write so far, which will become evident why as you read on. I'm so appreciative of all the support, and am keen to hear what you think of the story so far! Thank you!
Chapter Six
Beyond the Sea - Bobby Darin
May 8th, 1944
Ripon, North Yorkshire, U.K.
As always, the table felt incomplete.
Lucy sat at the dinner table, listening to everyone chatter on, hands in her lap. To her left, sat Edmund, enthralled by the current topic of conversation; war, and to her right sat their mother, who was visibly less enticed by any talk of the frontline, picking at her sandwiches with a thin-lipped frown. Across from Lucy sat Peter, their father next to him, leading the discussion, and Eustace the other side of Peter, listening wide-eyed. Professor Kirke headed the table, paying little attention to his guests, and more to the sandwiches he was piling down his throat.
There was one chair left, and the empty space seemed to weigh on all of their minds. It was symbolic; the empty seat at the table, the empty place in the family.
Looking away, before it became too obvious who she was thinking about, Lucy began to sip her tea, glancing up over the cup at Peter. He was clad in his mossy army uniform, though his hat was perched next to him on the table. The buttons were polished brightly, and the collar was neatly ironed; it was clear to see that Peter took pride in these clothes. It was no knight's armour or king's crown, but it was the closest thing he was going to get in this world.
"So tell me, Peter, when is it your company ships out? Heading to Normandy, I believe?" Professor Kirke queried, swallowing the last of the cucumber sandwiches. Lucy tried not to giggle at the small crumbs dancing around in his snowy white beard.
Tugging at his jacket, Peter sat up straighter, glad to be talking about his favourite subject once again - himself. "Well, Professor, officially I'm not at liberty to say - "
"June," Edmund piped up, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Peter shot him an irritated glare, brow furrowed. Shrugging, Edmund didn't seem too bothered. "You've been bragging to everyone else who'll listen, what's one more person knowing?"
"My, that's close," the Professor murmured, ignoring Peter and Edmund's bickering. "And I suppose your lovely sister will be joining you too? From what I hear, she's in the army as well. Bright girl, that one."
Everyone around the table shuffled uncomfortably, all besides the Professor who eyed the commotion curiously. Their mother suddenly turned a pale colour, folding her hands across her lap. Their father resorted to a stoic, stern expression, and Peter and Edmund looked down at their plates, scowling. Eustace began to busy himself with his fork, examining it perhaps a little too closely. Lucy was the only one who didn't look away, instead sighing.
"We haven't seen much of Susan, not since she became a nurse," she explained, softly. "She doesn't get much leave, you see, and - "
"And the leave she does get, she spends with that Yankee prat instead of us," Peter spat, bitterly.
Lucy felt her mother tense beside her, and reaches out to hold her hand under the table, as their father scolded Peter, though admittedly not as harshly as he could have. The Professor, sensing some hostility, took the hint and dropped all conversation of the eldest sibling. Instead, he turned to ask Edmund and Lucy after their schooling.
/
Professor Kirke found Lucy in the spare room, staring intently at the wardrobe. She is so enthralled by the large, wooden piece of furniture that he didn't catch her attention until he coughed, politely. Snapping her head round, she turned to look at the elderly man, beaming warmly, though with a hint of sadness, as though longing for something that could never be. Professor Kirke recognised that look - he had seen it many times reflected upon is own face.
The Professor couldn't help but be astounded how much Lucy had grown in the four years since he had last saw her. Her hair was certainly longer, held back by a beige Alice band, and she was tall too, only a few feet smaller than he was. She seemed sadder, however. The light that he had once seen burning brightly in her eyes was now dim, and her smile only appeared half-hearted.
"What I wouldn't give to go back," Lucy sighed, turning back to the wardrobe. "You know, I've spent both fifteen years in Narnia and here, in England. That's an bizarre thought, isn't? Sometimes I have to pinch myself."
Nodding in agreement, the Professor smiles, softly. "Bizarre indeed," he murmurs. "I'll always cherish my time in Narnia."
"I can't understand how anybody could forget such an incredible experience like that," Lucy points out, not needing to say Susan's name for the Professor to know who she meant immediately.
"You may find, Lucy, that Susan does not share your sentiment for Narnia. Wasn't there a man?"
"Yes, there was Caspian. But it doesn't make any sense. If she forgot Narnia because her love for Caspian drove her to, but she's now in love with somebody else, surely she could remember if she could recover from her heartbreak so quickly?"
Lucy had crossed her arms, her brow was creased, and her lower lip curled. The Professor repressed an urge to grin, thinking to himself that not all things had changed in their time apart.
"Perhaps it's not that simple," the Professor suggested. "We all cope in our own ways, dear Lucy. I think your sister is trying to find the best way for her."
Before Lucy could retort back, the Professor fumbled in his coat pocket, with a determined fervour. Lucy waited patiently, watching him keenly. The time it took him to retrieve the items from his pocket, Lucy wondered how deep it went, and whether it was a magic pocket, like ones she had witnessed in Narnia. Glittering gold rings were thrust under her nose, and Lucy gasped, entranced by the bands of amber. Each was identical to the other, with a small lion engraved in the metal, a lion so realistic Lucy could practically hear it roar.
"They're wonderful," she whispered, unable to tear her eyes away.
The Professor smiled warmly down at her, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "I'm glad you like them," he told her, pleased. "I've spent most of my life searching for a way back to Narnia, and now I think I've finally found a way."
Flitting her eyes between the Professor and the rings, Lucy could hardly believe her own ears. "These?" she asked, full of disbelief. "These are a way back?"
Nodding, the Professor took her hand and placed one in her palm. "Why don't you try one on for size?" he suggested, a twinkle in his eye. Without needing to be asked twice, Lucy slid one on, and found that it fit perfectly. The second the metal touched her skin, she felt a surge of hope, something she hadn't felt in a long time. "Do you like it?"
"Yes, very much," she replied, mesmerised.
"It's yours, if you'd like. In fact, there's one here for all your family members."
"Even Susan?" Lucy queried, doubtful.
"Even Susan," he answered, sincerely. "Although I should like to give one to her myself, if you don't mind. The rest you can take now, tell your parents their antiques or something. It's crucial you wear these at all times, especially now. You never know when they'll need to work."
Lucy held her hand up to scrutinise the ring further, the sunlight catching on the golden band. "Could it take me back now?"
The Professor shook his head. "No, dear Lucy. They only work when there's no other choice but to take you to Narnia."
Slowly Lucy brought her hand down, and clasped it with the other, suddenly sombre. "You mean . . . when I'm dying?"
"I'm afraid so."
"That could be decades away!" Lucy complained.
"Or it could be tomorrow. Would you rather wait, however long, for another wardrobe to come along and take you to Narnia, or would your rather be safe knowing that when you die, which I'm sorry to say could be any moment dear Lucy, you'll be taken straight there?" the Professor offered, placing an arm around her shoulder as he handed her the remaining rings - keeping one back of course. He lead her out of the spare room, and down the stairs where her family were putting on their coats and shoes, ready to leave.
Lucy joined them in putting on their coats, and pocketed the rings. She thanked the Professor for a lovely meal, and hugged him goodbye. The others followed suit, until all had been said, and it was time for Mrs Macready to take them back to the train station. The Professor waved them off from the doorway, the youngest Pevenise's words ringing in her ear. I can't understand how anyone could forget such an incredible experience like that. Indeed, it was difficult to comprehend.
Kings Cross Station, London, U.K.
After what felt like centuries, their parents finally drifted off, leaving Lucy free to fill in her siblings, and Eustace, on the Professor's gifts to them. She pulled them out eagerly, watching as their eyes lit up. All gathering close together, around the six gold bands, Lucy excitedly whispered as she told them what they meant.
Eustace, who since his trip to Narnia had changed wholeheartedly, allowing his imagination to stretch farther than he probably ever thought possible, took one immediately and slid it on. Holding his breath with anticipation, he looked around, half expecting the carriage doors to peel away and reveal a luscious green landscape, complete with castles, and fauns, and dragons. However, nothing did change, and his elated expression dropped. Peter and Edmund sat back, sceptical.
"It doesn't work right away," Lucy giggled, as Eustace frowned. "They only work when completely necessary."
Still suspicious, Peter and Edmund plucked a ring each from their sister's hand, and held it up to inspect it. Gasping, Peter looked back at Lucy. "There's a lion on them," he told her. The other two boys glanced wide-eyed at their own rings. They all knew what that meant - or at least, who it was depicting. "You say Professor Kirke gave you these?"
"Yes, earlier today," Lucy nodded. "He said that we're to wear them at all times, or else we might miss our opportunities to go home."
"Did he specify when 'necessary' was?" Edmund piped up, now wearing his.
A little reluctant, Lucy looked down at her lap. "Well, he said that the rings will ensure we get to go back to Narnia when our . . . our time is up."
The three boys glared incredulously at Lucy, mouths agape. "So, when we're dead?" Eustace piped up, causing their mother to stir slightly, though eventually drifted back off into deep slumber.
Shrugging, Lucy pursed her lips. "Um . . . well, yes," she finally replied. Watching as the other three sat back in a huff, all excitement gone, she tried to enthuse them further. "If you'd rather pin all your hopes on another wardrobe appearing out of nowhere, or a magical painting, then be my guest. I'm happy knowing that when my time comes, I'll get to go home."
Suddenly, they heard a scream echo throughout the carriages, waking Mr and Mrs Pevensie instantly. Another scream could be heard, followed by another. Soon, a whole chorus of shrieking and screaming was reverberating throughout the train. Lucy and Peter looked out the window, their hearts racing. The train was nearing the station - too fast. The breaks must have been stuck or something, for there was no sign of slowing. Steam was starting to fill the sky, and screams could be heard by the people on the platform as the train raced by, knocking people backwards who were stood too close to the yellow line.
People were running past their carriage in crowds, all rushing to push past one another. Mrs Pevensie held all the children close, trying to calm them despite her obvious panic. Mr Pevensie stood beside Lucy, holding her hand tightly. "It'll be alright," he promised, in a somewhat unsteady voice.
As if by a stroke of luck, seconds before the train collided with the solid, brick wall, Lucy instructed her parents to slip on the rings each, in a stern but certain voice that her parent's found little to argue with. Then, as the train crumpled up like a discarded can in a cloud of smoke and flames, the five Pevensie's and Eustace disappeared without a trace.
Finchley, London, U.K.
Never had Susan felt so nostalgic than she did sat in her childhood home for the first time in two years. Though considerably more mature, and more worldly and accomplished, she found that the familiarity of the walls and what lay within them were a comforting reminder of what she had missed in her time spent away.
So much had changed in such a short span of time, she thought to herself. Of course there was the obvious; her hair was longer, her skin tone had more of a colour to it, and her smile was brighter. She was a qualified nurse now, and had visited countries such as Italy, America, and France. Sat beside her was Johnny, holding her hand, a sparkling diamond ring glimmering off of one finger, whilst her other hand was placed to her belly, where their unborn son slumbered.
Despite how happy she felt with her new fiancé and their future child, Susan couldn't help the nerves that had built up gradually during their journey to Finchley, rise to the surface. What if Lucy and Edmund, who had yet to meet Johnny, didn't like him? What if her parent's thought it was all too fast? What if they all assumed the engagement was all because Susan was expecting? As though reading her mind, Johnny squeezed her hand reassuringly.
"There's nothing to worry about, Su," he told her, in his unbelievably endearing accent. His voice alone was enough to soothe her. "Your family only want you to be happy."
Smiling, Susan leant into his shoulder. "I only wonder if we should perhaps have gotten their permission before getting engaged. I mean, you didn't even ask my dad if it was alright."
Johnny gasped, teasingly. "Do my ears deceive me, or is Susan Pevensie asking for permission to do something?"
Chuckling, she hit him playfully on the knee. Lifting her head up to look into his eyes, Susan found it hard to concentrate on what she was trying to say. He had made quite the effort for the occasion, choosing to wear a light blue, long-sleeved shirt, and a pair of dark brown trousers. His hair was uncharacteristically neat, raven black, and his eyes sparkled. However his grin was still mischievous - that much he couldn't change. Susan had tried her best too, dressing in a red and white floral tea dress, and a pair of white heels.
"I'm serious, Johnny," she sighed, biting her lip. "I'm afraid they'll think we're only getting married because of the baby."
Reaching out to touch her face, Susan found Johnny's touch rather alleviating. "We're marrying each other because we're in love, and our baby is just a delightful, yet surprising, bonus. They'll see that, Su. They'll see that we love each other more than anything, and that we'd be getting married whether you were pregnant or not."
"But I haven't seen them in so long, it'll be a shock - "
"And once they get over the initial surprise, they'll be thrilled about the baby. I promise you," he pointed out, and kissed her as though to further convince her.
Suddenly, a doorbell rang, breaking them apart. Susan shot up, smoothing down her dress, and tucking her hair behind her ear. She then rushed to the door, as Johnny stood up. Susan suspected the nerves had hit him, suddenly, too. Swinging the door open, Susan found not her family, but instead was face-to-face with a policeman.
"Oh, can I help you?" she asked, furrowing her brow.
"Is this the residence of Mr Gordon Pevensie, Mrs Helen Pevensie, and their four children?" he asked, in a sombre tone that did not bode well.
"Yes, I'm their daughter, Susan Pevensie," she told him. An uneasy feeling had started to swirl in her stomach, not helped by the fact she was two months into her pregnancy. "Has something happened?"
The policemen then took his hat off, and held it to his chest. "I'm so sorry. There was an accident, earlier today. A train collided with the station, there weren't many survivors. Gordon and Helen Pevensie, their children Peter, Edmund and Lucy, and cousin Eustace Scrubb were all aboard, and unaccounted for among the bodies. We believe them to have perished in the crash."
Susan could barely believe what he was telling her. Her knuckles had turned white from gripping the door so hard, and her knees buckled. She would have fell, if Johnny hadn't caught her in time. He held her close to his chest as she sobbed, screaming almost. Her parents. Her brothers. Her sisters. Her cousin. All of them, gone just like that. No goodbye, no warning.
Nobody to ask permission from now, she thought bitterly, as the tears flooded the floor beneath her. Nobody to ask anything from. Nobody save for Johnny.